Tony Blair, Up Close and Personal in London

The best theater in London has nothing to do with Shakespeare, isn't on Shaftesbury Avenue and is never on more than once a week. But the man playing the lead is Prime Minister Tony Blair.

Every Wednesday at noon while Parliament is in session (year-round, except for three 10- to 20-day periods, plus August and September), Blair assumes his seat on the front bench of the House of Commons's left side.

Surrounded by his government, he opens a binder on his lap and thumbs through his rehearsed answers for Prime Minister's Questions (PMQ). For the next 30 minutes, Blair -- who announced recently that he'll step down within a year -- will defend policy, dodge verbal bullets and spin accusations into accomplishments.

For members of Parliament, PMQ is business as usual. But for the non-members in the Public Gallery -- meaning the general public, including foreigners -- it is a rare chance to observe British politics stripped of Teleprompters and makeup. Although that last one is only an assumption.

Members of Parliament can put one query to the PM, which is submitted in writing beforehand and answered in the House with the option of a follow-up. Although the opposition leader can ask up to six questions, he usually stops after five because Blair tends to answer the sixth one with an acid query of his own -- stranding his foe, now out of follow-ups, in forced silence.

But the MPs' contributions do not end there. When they are pleased by what is said they groan a bovine "hear, hear." But when they are displeased, it becomes a real show. And at least half the House is always displeased.

This is what has made the PMQ, as it is known, a BBC fixture since its inception by then-Prime Minister Harold Macmillan in 1961. It even airs live in the United States on C-SPAN2 and is repeated during prime time on C-SPAN. But television viewers are being short-changed. All they see are a few faces and the benches' green leather -- it's like watching Hamlet through a hole in the wall. In person, it is at once a lesson in British politics, a leap into Victorian England and a school playground at recess.

Before proceedings can begin, a policeman clears his throat in the Central Lobby. He looks exactly the way a bobby is supposed to: 6 foot 2 (7 feet with the helmet) and sporting a neatly groomed mustache.

"Spee-kah!" he bellows through the hall, and like wooden figurines out of a cuckoo clock, sergeants-at-arms march in. Dressed in morning coats and white silk bowties, they escort the Speaker and carry the Mace, a symbolic staff of royal authority that signifies Parliament is in session. As they enter the lobby, another bobby shouts, "Hats off, strangers!" and immediately tucks his helmet under his arm.

Showtime. The crowd has just enough time to make its way up a narrow staircase to the public gallery for Act I.

The first thing that strikes you from the gallery is the recently installed security glass hanging in front of most of it. But once you take your seat on the narrow, pew-style benches, the history of the place rushes to the fore.

This is the place where Winston Churchill vowed in 1940, "We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills." This is the place where the aisle is exactly two-swords' lengths wide, which stopped opposing members from dueling back in the days when a man's sword was like his AmEx card. This is the place where in 1852 a drunken Benjamin Disraeli launched into a stormy diatribe slamming his fellow members, his language more appropriate for the pub than the Commons. Ever the elder statesman, William Gladstone retorted with a lecture on how one ought to behave in Parliament.

Although getting into the House of Commons when it's in session isn't easy, especially for PMQs, it is well worth the effort. American visitors need to apply to the U.S. Embassy in London for a card of introduction, which should be done well in advance of your trip. But those don't guarantee entry during Question Time. For that, you must show up outside of Parliament with your card of introduction some time before the session opens at 11:30 a.m. and partake in that most British of activities: queueing.

Though the House of Lords is more subdued -- members are known to fall asleep -- it is equally worth a visit. More lavish than the Commons, it is decorated in deep red leather and gold leaf. Despite losing the political sway they once had, lords -- or peers, as they're also known -- still command respect in Parliament and enjoy the perks of a private dining room, subsidized by taxpayers, private libraries and an allowance.

It is also where most prime ministers finish their careers. With their terms up and their best performances behind them, a peerage is a PM's curtain call. It is likely that sometime within the next year Blair will be making casual appearances in the House of Lords. But until that day comes for him to cross the hall, he will spend most Wednesdays at noon fending off the opposition, thumbing through his binder and speaking the speech trippingly on the tongue.

-- Joshua Robinson

Cards of introduction (free) for the House of Commons' Public Gallery can be obtained from the protocol office of the U.S. Embassy in London (011-44-207-499-9000,http://www.usembassy.org.uk). Tours ($13.25) of the Houses of Parliament for overseas visitors are available only during the summer opening (Aug. 1-Sept 30).

Book online at http://www.parliament.uk/visiting/summer_opening.cfmor call 011-44-870-906-3773. More information:http://www.parliament.uk.